


How To Train Your Skinchanger

by WerewulfTherewulf



Category: Being Human (UK), The Almighty Johnsons
Genre: Blood, Dragon!Mitchell, How to Train Your Dragon AU, M/M, Skinchanger!Mitchell, Swearing, Viking!Johnsons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-13 08:57:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9116011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WerewulfTherewulf/pseuds/WerewulfTherewulf
Summary: Anders Johnson, clan joke, finally manages to take down a dragon! But when he goes to kill it the next day... things do not go as planned. From there, his life spirals into something he never would have thought! From learning everything he knew about dragons was completely wrong, to riding the dragon, and even obtaining  *feelings* for it! Nothing will ever be the same!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally a one-off in my Nano-Types project, but I and others enjoyed it enough to warrant more. The original is still there as well as here. Please tell me what you think :)

Anders grumbled to himself as he picked berries from their bushes, sticking it in his bushel. He was out on foraging duty, _again,_ while the rest of his family went on the raiding party for dragons. ‘Twas the season; the dragons were back to breed for the year, and their breeding grounds were unfortunately close to Norsewood. So every season, clan Johnson led the rest of the village out to hunt dragon meat and skin for the winter.

But then there was Anders. Little wimpy Anders, the size of a toothpick. There was no way he could take on not even a baby dragon, it’s a fact that had been hammered home into Anders’ psyche from the time he was able to lift a wooden sword. Well, try to, anyway. He was the weak one, born early and during a winter famine. Luck was not on Anders’ side from day one.

Anders looked up towards the sky to watch as a Night Terror flew erratically overhead. He scoffed and rolled his eyes when he noticed his older brother wrangling with it. He heard the resulting crash and tussle a moment later, the shouting and roaring of both Mike and the dragon muffled by the forest trees. The dragon let out on final wail before cutting sharply off. Mike had killed it, and would be dragging it back to the village to be scaled and cooked.

The sun had finished setting, and it was time for Anders to get back. He hitched his fruit-laden bushel onto his hip and started the long trek home.

A deafening roar filled the air that caused Anders to freeze. That was not a sound he recognized. Anders knew the ins and outs of dragons better than anyone in the village, he knew what they all sounded like. What he just heard was _not_ something he knew. He stood and listened, waiting for more. He got what he wanted. Another unfamiliar roar rang out, and then another. Anders could see a fearsome dark shadow zoom through the air and he prayed to the gods that it didn’t see him. All he was armed with was a simple dagger that was mockingly gifted to him a few years back by his father.

Anders’ stomach dropped as the shadow divebombed into the forest. He heard the crashing of trees in the distance, and Anders dare not move. A large deer burst into the clearing and charged past Anders, making his heart leap into his throat.

The roar let out again, chilling Anders to the bone. But this time, it was cut off abruptly and ended in a high pitched screech. There were several frantic roars after that, as if it were panicking.

It wasn’t angry… it was hurt! Well it was most certainly angry, but mostly, it was hurt. Anders couldn’t think what could’ve hurt it-- one of his traps! Anders stood straight, listening. He shook himself out of his stupid. He had to see! His family always laughed at him for his stupid rinky dinky traps because they never really seemed to work. But now!! Anders could have laughed. Instead he dropped his bushel and sprinted excitedly through the trees mindlessly, guided by the moonlight.

It seemed to take eons, but finally Anders made it. He could hear the beast thrashing wildly just a few steps away. Anders steeled his nerves and rushed through the last batch of trees.

The noise startled the beast and made it still. It made eye contact with Anders, and Anders gasped as he stared at those large, green eyes.

Its pupils dilated and it reared back, letting out a fearsome screech, causing Anders to stumble back in fear.

The dragon opened its large mouth and Anders could see sparks flying. He wanted to move, but he couldn’t. The black beast was so mesmerizing. If not for the moonlight and those eyes, the creature’d be invisible. A stray spark flew from the mouth and onto a rock, lighting up the area enough for Anders to see his trap-- and the beast’s tail, ensnared within. Just when Anders looked back, a large ball of fire was spewed his way. Anders dove out of the way, but was hit with a glancing blow to the neck by a stray flame. He tumbled to the ground, but scrambled back to his feet in a hurry, ignoring the searing pain. He ran back from where he came, not once looking behind him.

Anders finally made it back home nearly twenty minutes later. Glancing at the window showed that at least some of his family was home. He hoped it was just his baby brothers.

No such luck. Anders pushed his way into his home only to meet his father and Ty. Johan sat on his claimed seat in front of the fire pit, sharpening a large battleaxe. Little Ty sat quietly beside him, sharpening his own dagger. Both stopped and looked up at Anders as he entered.

“You’re late, boy,” Johan said. Anders pursed his lips.

“Something came up,” was all he said. Johan ignored him.

“Where’s your keep?” he asked instead. Anders cursed himself, not having realized he had dropped all the food he had gathered in the forest.

“Like I said: something came up,”

Anders’ adrenaline ran out then. His neck started throbbing and burning, he had to bit his lip not to let tears of pain spring forth. He turned and walked out of the main room, into his bedroom. He went to close the door behind him, but it was stopped by Ty, who had followed him. Anders groaned internally. He wanted to deal with the _literal_ pain in his neck, not the metaphorical one.

“What is it, Ty?” he sighed.

“Dad’s mad. You’re in lots of trouble,”

Anders rolled his eyes. He was always in trouble with their father.

“I don’t care, Ty. Go to bed, it’s late--”

Ty gasped. “Andy! You’re hurt! What happened?!” he cried, reaching to touch Anders’ neck. Anders hissed and jerked away.

“Don’t _touch_ it!”

He shooed Ty away with assurances that he was fine, then went to his washroom. He bathed quietly, hoping Johan wouldn’t wait for him and would instead go to the village center to join in the feast, where everyone celebrated _Mike._

Anders gently tended to his burn and went to bed.

 

He awoke late morning and crawled out of bed, sneaking around hoping he was the only one up. After changing his bandages, he was out of the house. All he could think about was that dragon. He had to see it again! The rest of the village along with his family seemed to be passed out from the night before, making things much easier for Anders. He hurried to the forest, in search of his trap and a dead dragon.

Hopefully all he’d have to do is carve the heart out, despite how much he hated blood. If he could bring Johan a dragon heart, things would start to look a lot different for him at home.

In Anders’ haste, he reached the edge of the forest in no time at all. It was then that his nerve began to leave him.

Anders had never been in this situation before, he wasn’t all that sure what to do. What if someone else had found the dragon while he slept? He had planned on bringing Johan the heart, but what was he to do with the remains? Anders took a deep breath and steeled himself before continuing.

From then on he moved through the thick trees with caution. Finally he was a mere few steps from his dead dragon. But it was now crystal clear that his dragon was anything _but_ dead. Just through the trees ahead Anders could hear the mighty beast moving and making angry noises. Anders steadied himself. He’d just have to go in and finish the deed! He had felled the beast from the sky, he could do this! Pulling his small dagger from the sack on his back, Anders leapt forward into the small, charred clearing.

The large black beast was laying down at an awkward angle, and his tail was still stuck in the trap.

Both Anders and the dragon froze at the sight of each other. What felt like long minutes of staring was really only a few seconds. Then, the dragon opened his large mouth and Anders watched as a large ball of fire began forming. Something possessed Anders, and instead of running away, he ran forward, towards the creature.

The dragon was apparently just as shocked as Anders was at himself, as the beast snapped his snout shut and practically stumbled backwards, away from the small Norseman. Now lying flat on its belly, it swiped at Anders with a wing, effectively flinging Anders off his feet and onto his back. The dragon continued to try and get away, but wasn’t able to get far at all with its tail still ensnared in Anders’ trap.

Anders spared no thought towards it and scrambled back to his feet, continuing to charge straight at the dragon. The dragon made one last feeble attempt to escape, and again failed. He let out a miserable growl and… gave up. He laid down on his stomach and rested his head on the ground, accepting his fate.

It was this that caused Anders to trip over his feet and stop his assault. Why wasn’t the sky beast fighting back? He wasn’t struggling, wasn’t attack Anders, wasn’t doing anything. Anders’ gaze slid over to his trap. He had never expected the device to work so well. From where he stood, Anders could tell the wound on the beast was savage. The dragon was trapped and in pain. He was likely starving, as well, having been out there all night.

Anders lowered his dagger. What was he doing? He couldn’t kill this thing. This wasn’t like him. What the village always said of him was true; he was a nimby, he had a soft heart. It was decided, he’d let the dragon go then go on with his life as normal.

The dragon had begun to watch Anders’ every move with surprisingly human-like emotions. Despair, annoyance and confusion were all over the black beast’s face.

Anders sighed and dragged a hand down his face. “I’m not… I’m not going to kill you.” he said, unsure if the beast could even understand him. It sure stared at him like it did. “I’m going to free you.”

Slowly Anders inched over to the trap. He reached out a hand, but then the dragon quickly jerked his tail, startling Anders to his core.

“Don’t do that!” he hissed at the beast, who chirped in reply and looked away. Anders set to work and began trying to pry the trap apart. After several long seconds, he had no such luck. It had malfunctioned and it was clear there was no getting it open.

“Damn,” he hissed. No wonder the trap worked so well -- it was shit! The blond sat back on his haunches. “Okay, look, Beast. You want to be let go, right?” he asked. The dour look Anders received in return was incredible. “Right, of course you do. But in order to do that… I have to cut your tail fin off.”

That garnered a violent reaction from the dragon, who roared loudly and hopped to its feet, letting out a stream of fire into the sky and trying to yank his tail from the trap. Anders scrambled to his feet and leapt onto the beast’s tail, holding on tight as he was whipped back and forth.

“Stop, stop!” he shouted. The dragon let out another fearsome roar. “If you want to be free you have to let me do this!” he pleaded. Anders continued to hold on until the beast tired himself out, finally giving up. Anders sat up and placed his elbow on one knee, resting his head on his hand.

“You done? Like I said, I _have_ to do this. But I won’t until you give me the okay.” he stared straight into the dragon’s eyes. What was he doing? Having a one sided conversation with a _dragon_ …

The great big beast moaned loudly… but jerked his head down once in agreement.

“Okay. Uh… Do you think it would help if you had something to bite down on? Like a tree or something… that’s what we do back in the village whenever something like this has to get done,” Anders shrugged. He looked around and spotted just the thing at a conveniently close distance.

The dragon looked at Anders skeptically, but with little struggle he reached and grabbed the trunk in his mouth, dragging it back and getting comfy.

Anders sighed again and looked back down at the mangled tail fin. There really was no saving it. He grabbed his dagger and positioned it accordingly before taking a deep breath and beginning. Immediately the beast let out a muffled roar, biting down viciously on the tree trunk. As Anders continued, trying to get it over and done with as quickly as possible, the dragon let out a large stream of fire that was split in half by the log. The fire didn’t have any time to have any effect on it though, because the strength of the dragon’s bite snapped it in half like a twig.

Anders began having more and more trouble as he progressed, the amount of blood pouring out hampering his progress and causing his hands to slip around dangerously. As he sawed away, things only got worse. He could barely grip the dagger anymore from the blood, and the thick, leathery skin was dulling his blade, all while being jerked around while the dragon writhed around violently in pain.

At the very end, it was clear his knife could do no more.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Anders cursed underneath his breath. There was a finger’s width left to cut off, but Anders’ dull knife would only cause more unnecessary pain while making no progress. He had no other choice; he had to tear the rest off.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he chanted too quietly to the beast. What had he done to the gods to deserve landing himself in such a wild situation? Wiping his bloody hands and the bloody fin on his tunic for a better grip, he grabbed the tail and the fin, and with all his mustered strength, ripped the fin away.

The most deafening roar yet wrenched itself from the dragon’s throat, and it bucked wildly. But, it was free. Anders was flung from it’s tail and flew through the air, the wind knocked out of him as he landed on the ground some ways away. The tail fin was still in his hand, and he noticed a small chunk of actual tail came away with it when he removed the appendage. He gasped and watched the dragon snap about, roaring and convulsing.

It hopped to face the more dense part of the forest, and as it began its escape, the rest of its tail accidentally whipped Anders across the face, ripping open a fierce cut across the entirety of the left sid.. Anders was unconscious instantly.

  
  
  


He was aware of his surroundings some time later in the day, and he just lay there listening to the birds chirpings and bugs buzzing by as he tried to recollect what had happened. His eyes remained closed as let himself relax as much as he could with a throbbing face. The crackling of a fire caught Anders’ attention though, and he sat up on his elbows, looking for the source.

It was very close, he found out, and he could actually feel the heat of it. Sitting on the burnt half of log the dragon had crushed with his bite was a young man, and he was cooking what looked like a flattened rabbit on a spit in the fire.

The man, who looked more like a boy in Anders’ eyes, was very pale and sickly looking. His wild black hair, and even the curls of his chest hair, contrasted sharply with his complexion. The more Anders observed him, the more hair there seemed to be. Anders had just had his eighteenth birthday in the past month, and he had less hair than this _boy_ who looked a year or two younger. It was thick on his head, his chest, his arms, his thighs… and even his _groin_ , which was covered by nothing at all. Anders blushed and looked away. But something caught his eye, causing him to doubletake sharply.

The man had hair everywhere, all right, except for one of his legs, which was missing from the middle of his shin down. The wound looked very, very freshly cauterized, and there was the remnants of dried blood  leftover.

“Why are you naked?” Anders blurted out. The man startled, his stubbly face whipping up sharply in Anders’ direction.

“You’re awake!” he gasped in his thick Celtic brogue.

“Who are you?” Anders asked, sitting up further.

“How’s your face?”

Anders reached up and gently touched the wound, hissing in pain but surprised to see that it had actually been taken care of; it had been washed out and there was an odd ointment on it.

“Oh, so you take care of my injury but leave me lying on the cold, hard ground?” was his snarky question. The man rolled his eyes.

Anders stared hard at him. No clothes, a freshly missing limb, and no questions about the wreckage about them, or how Anders had been hurt… he quickly looked around for the tail fin he had cut off and had dropped when knocked unconscious. It was gone. He turned back to the man, who was watching him.

“You’re the dragon, aren’t you?”

The man looked shocked and ready to shoot down such an accusation, but Anders pointed out his evidence before he had the chance. The man looked away, defeated. Anders asked him where the tail fin went, and the man pointed to a small mound of dirt a ways away. It had a tiny cross sticking out of the top of it. Anders snorted.

“How cute,” he said sarcastically. “How’d you catch that rabbit? I doubt you’re much able to hunt very well in your condition.”

The Celt blushed and thought back to how he had found the injured bunny and ended up belly flopping on top of it after tripping over a large tree root. There wasn’t much he could do then, except bring the flattened corpse back and eat it.

“It doesn’t matter,” he mumbled.

Anders huffed and ran a hand through his hair. He looked back at the man’s leg, which looked horrific.

“That looks fucking awful. You should come back to the village with me so we can make you look somewhat tolerable,” he said.

“No!” the dragon snapped, flinching back. “I can’t go there, they’ll murder me! I’ll just go home,” Anders rolled his eyes.

“Oh please. Why? It’s not like you’re a dragon right now… how does that work, by the way? Turning into a dragon and back…?”

The other man was now on his feet… foot. “That doesn’t matter right now. I’m not going to a village of _dragon-slayers_!” he hissed. Anders watched as the man weebled and wobbled then ultimately fell back on his ass with his now unfortunate sense of balance.

“What’s your name?” Anders snickered.

The man glared at him then struggled to stand back up, brushing the dirt and pine needles off his butt. “You can call me… Mitchell.” he told Anders.

“Oh yeah? _I_ _can call you Mitchell?_ Well you can call me Anders of clan Johnson. What’s your clan?”

Mitchell eyed him warily. “I’m of clan Mitchell, in the north a ways,” he murmured, crossing his arms.

“Mitchell of clan Mitchell? Wow, got some creative folk up there, I see,” Anders laughed. “Must be that elusive Celtic clan no one believes exists. Well Mitchell of clan Mitchell, I am taking you officially as a hostage of clan Johnson, and you are coming back to the village with me,”

“I’m not going to your village! They’ll _know_ and they’ll _kill me!_ ” Mitchell snapped.

Anders rolled his eyes. “No they won’t. You’re giving them too much credit. I’m the smartest person in the village, honestly. Everyone else is as dumb as a bag of rocks. You’ll be fine, I’ll just tell them the truth. You’re from a clan up north, I trumped you in battle and took you hostage,” he stood up then, and pulled off his bloody tunic, leaving him in only his trousers. “Tie this around your waist. I’m not dragging a naked prisoner into my village! We do have standards,” he sniffed.

“It’s covered in blood!” Mitchell whined. Anders snapped his fingers at him until he finally relented grumpily, tying the tunic around his waist.

  
  


Mitchell huffed and puffed as he hopped along after Anders. His wrists were tied loosely together with some twine, and Anders was pulling him along like a prisoner.

“I don’t see why we couldn’t do this closer to your village… it’s rubbing my wrists raw!” he whined.

“Yeah that’s the point,” Anders replied, tugging sharply twice. The sudden jerking caused Mitchell to stumble and fall, scraping his knees.

“Aaah!” He yelped. Anders stopped and watched as Mitchell sat back and pulled his knees to his chest, tears pooling in his eyes as he stared woefully at the awful scrapes marring his skin.

“Cry baby. We’ll get you cleaned up when we get home.”

“It’s gonna hurt to walk though. How much farther?”

“Not much. C’mon, fierce and almighty beast of the skies, let’s go!” Anders tugged on the cord until Mitchell struggled back to his feet and limped after the short blond.


	2. Chapter 2

They were met by Johan when they reached the clan hall. Anders explained Mitchell’s presence away by weaving several blatant lies; he went to get his basket he dropped in the woods when he met Mitchell there. They fought, Anders kicked Mitchell’s ass  _ real good _ and then took him as a prisoner slave.

Johan scoffed, rolled his eyes. “You can just say you picked him up from the whorehouse, no need to lie,” he chuckled. “Make sure you see to that leg of his, I won’t be having a dead whore in my home,” he gestured to Mitchell’s terrible injury.

“I would, but you insist on flapping your mouth constantly!” Ander snapped back. He tugged sharply on Mitchell’s rope, “Come on,  _ whore _ ,” he sniffed, leading the dragon man back into his small room.

Mitchell hopped along until he collapsed onto Anders’ bed. “I’m not some common  _ whore! _ ” he snapped. Anders rolled his eyes and undid the bind on Mitchell’s wrists.

“Yeah well while you’re here you’ll be damn well whatever I or Johan wants, if you want to live! You’re my prisoner, remember?”

Mitchell snarled. “Those are some mighty words coming from the likes of you,  _ whelp!  _ You have no command over me! I could kill all of you and your family in an instant!  I need not even be in my true form, for I could smite you with my fire breath as I am!”

He tried to stand from his seat on the bed, but his leg was still very weak and shaky from the earlier trauma. He subsequently fell back onto the bed.

Anders scoffed, and rolled his eyes. But then his face morphed into one of quiet thought. “Look, dragon man; I won’t go treating you like some lowbrow filth when we’re out of Johan’s eyeline, but out there, where he can see… you’re a prisoner, plain and simple. Lower than servants, right now. If I don’t treat you like one until Johan accepts you, you’ll be killed and I’ll be flayed.” 

“What do I care what happens to you? As soon as I’m able, I’m taking off! And you obviously could do with a bit of a beating, it might do your untouched princely ass some good!”

Anders laughed, only incensing Mitchell more. “Phrasing,” Anders snickered. “My ‘untouched princely ass’ has been touched plenty of times,” he explained, “it’s quite popular, actually,”

Mitchell cringed, blushed, then looked away. “No one wants to know about…  _ that _ ,” he grumbled.

This caused Anders to laugh again, before telling the dragon he would go get supplies to clean Mitchell’s wound. As Anders was cleaning the dried blood off the man’s leg, Mitchell began his inquiry.

“So why aren’t I dead?” he asked.

Anders briefly paused in his cleaning, but quickly resumed, “I saved you, obviously,” he replied.

“Yeah. But why?”

Anders stopped again, but this time pulled back and squinted his eyes at the Celt. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” he sneered.

Mitchell smirked. “Yeah, I would. Come on, tell me,”

“I’ll tell you the day you suck my cock,” Anders told him.

Mitchell snorted and looked away, leaning back on his hands. He hummed. “Yeah alright then,”

“What??” Anders was taken aback. “You know I was joking, right?”

“Oh, were you?” Mitchell asked sarcastically. “Come on, you want me to suck you off? I’ll suck you off,”

“Okay hold on a minute, now. How old are you? I don’t want some horny, crippled child mouthing my dick and biting it off!”

Mitchell bellowed a deep, throaty laugh. Anders couldn’t deny that it was at least slightly arousing. And normally, he would definitely let someone as gorgeous and willing as Mitchell give him head! But tonight was… different, somehow. Anders felt weird, put simply. He had risked his life to save this  _ ungrateful _ beast, who it turned out was also a gorgeous man, and now he had him in his bedroom, mostly naked and covered in blood.

“I’ve seen sixteen winters, now,” Mitchell said, interrupting Anders’ train of thought. Anders was having a hard time believing Mitchell; he didn’t look anything like a young, spritely teenager! Anders certainly didn’t look like that four years ago.

“Nope, I don’t believe you. I don’t know what it is you’re trying, but it’s not going to work against me,”

Mitchell laughed awkwardly. “No, really! I’m not lying! I haven’t looked like this for too long, it’s only been… a year, two? But now I’ve got hair… everywhere…”

_ I can see that! _ Anders thought.

“How does this whole turning into a dragon thing work, exactly? Can you control it? I’m not going to keep you in here if you’re going to randomly turn into a fucking dragon again!”

Mitchell scoffed. “Yeah, I can control it. I should just do that now and be rid of this place! I could even set it on fire, here and now if I so pleased; I don’t have to be a dragon to do it,” he grinned.

Anders stopped and stared at Mitchell, who seemed pleased with his little fantasy. When he realized Anders was no longer bandaging his leg, he looked down and dropped the smile from his face.

“Well you haven’t shown me any reason  _ not _ to,” he said. Anders yanked the bandages much too tight, causing Mitchell to wince. “… How many winters have  _ you _ seen?” he asked Anders, trying to lighten the tension in the air.

“For all you know, I’m leaving your leg to rot under these linens. How old do you think I am?”

Mitchell sat back on his hands. “Hm… fourteen?”

“What!” Anders snapped. He jumped to his feet with his rudimentary medical supplies and stomped out of the room.

 

 

 

 

A month passed. Mitchell became accustomed to the workings of the land and slowly accepted that he may not get home any time soon.

He lay on his mat in the corner of Anders’ room, his arms behind his head. He was staring at the ceiling, but he was stuck in his thoughts from earlier in the evening. It was so nice to see Anders relaxed and happy. He was laughing and joking around with others in the hall and even his own family. The mead had really loosened him up; Mitchell and the other servants as well. They were encouraged to join in on the festivities, as long as they still did what they were told. It was the way of Anders’ clan. Servants were treated just like everyone else, but only as long as they did what they were told to.

Mitchell was feeling pleasantly tipsy himself by the time he had returned to Anders’ room, where he had been relegated to stay until more space in the servants’ quarters could be procured. When he limped in on the makeshift crutch provided to him, by all appearances Anders was already in a deep sleep. So he went ahead and got himself drunkenly into his own sleep space and lay there, thinking.

“Hey, dragon man,” Anders called out in the dark. Mitchell startled, and looked over to Anders.

“Yes?”

“What’s it like to fly?”

Mitchell didn’t know how to answer at first. Anders prompted him again.

“Well… it’s the greatest feeling in the world,” Mitchell sighed happily, “You feel like nothing can stop you, you’re weightless and free. You can go to the ends of the Earth and no one can stop you,” he closed his eyes and smiled, reminiscing. The mead left his mind floating, and it helped to recall the past. “I’ll have to take you sometime,” he said offhandedly, whimsically.

Anders was silent again for such a long time that Mitchell was drifting off to sleep.

“How far have you gone?” Anders asked quietly.

“Not as far as I’d like. But far. Far, far away from here, with my family. I’ve tried to go even farther distances but my clan still sees me as a child and they keep a careful eye on me. Well, until now… and look where that’s gotten me,” Mitchell grimaced.

Anders snorted. “You are a child. Tell me about the places you’ve been,” he ordered. Mitchell pushed himself up on his elbows while Anders sat up and moved to sit on the side of his bed.

“Like where?”

“Everywhere.”

“Ummmm, okay. D’you mind if I…?” Mitchell sort of gestured to Anders’ bed with one hand.

“Yeah, come here.”

Mitchell slowly got to his feet and limped over to the bed, where he fell and bounced next to Anders. “Aaaah, much comfier,” he smiled. “So… the farthest I’ve been is The Dragon’s Nose, I think is what it’s called. My clan and I would fly there every winter to vacation,”

Anders sat a little straighter. “The Dragon’s Nose? That’s so far! Where are you from?”

“The Island of the Quiet Life,”

“That’s even farther! What the hell are you doing so far away from your home?”

“I wanted to explore! I wanted to see someplace I hadn’t seen before. It was so great! I flew to the Peaceable Country and the Outcast Islands… ” Mitchell stared off dreamily into space, pensively. He was jolted back to the present when he felt a pressure on his crotch. It was Anders’ hand. “What are you--?!”

Anders interrupted him with his mouth, and continued working at Mitchell’s crotch with his hand. Mitchell wanted to fight back, but he was a horny teenager. His body reacted instantly, and his mind not long after. They fell back onto the bed and spent the next many hours mapping out each other’s bodies.

The next morning, both were awoken by a pounding on the door. Anders groaned.

“Go answer that, Wings,” he grumbled. Mitchell huffed, but rolled out of the bed onto his foot. He grabbed the sheet covering them both and wrapped it around his waist, then hopped over to the door. He opened it and was greeted by Mikkel, Anders oldest brother. Mikkel’s eyes snapped to his naked form, then behind him to Anders, who was lying naked on his stomach in bed still. Mitchell’s face became bright red.

“Anders is… unavailable. Can I take a message?” he croaked in embarrassment. Mikkel raised an unamused eyebrow.

“I’m here to talk to you, actually. I have something for you.”

“Huh? What is it?” 

Mikkel rolled his eyes. “It’s better if I show you. Come on, follow me,” he turned and took a few steps away, but then stopped. “But first, get dressed, please,”

“Yes, of course!” Mitchell stammered, slamming the door shut quickly.

“Whazzit?” Anders mumbled sleepily.

“Your brother,”

“Hn? What’s he want? Which one?”

“Mikkel. He said he has something to give to me,” Mitchell explained as he clumsily put on pants.

Anders pushed himself up on his hands. “What! Don’t go anywhere with that bastard, I don’t trust him!” he snapped.

“Uh… I think it’ll be fine. I can take care of myself, in case anything does happen. Dragon, remember?” Mitchell secured his tartan nicely with a basic looking broach, grabbed his crutch, then met Mikkel outside the room. “Um, sorry you had to see… that,” he apologized to the heir as they slowly walked along.

Mikkel sighed. “Don’t worry about it. It’s not the first time, and it probably won’t be the last,” he rolled his eyes. Mitchell wondered what he meant about the latter part.

After a while they finally arrived at the blacksmith’s. It was where Mikkel spent a fair amount of time, having apprenticed under the smith for many years, Mitchell had learned. Mikkel led him to the back, at which point Mitchell was feeling a mite suspicious. What if Mikkel really was up to no good? No, he couldn’t let Anders’ disdain for his brother get to him like this.

Mikkel stopped in his tracks, causing Mitchell to bump into him. He turned and pointed to a stool nearby.

“Here, go sit down on that, will you?”   
“Er, alright,” Mitchell hobbled over to the stool and plopped down onto it. Mikkel came back over holding a very strange wood and metal contraption in his hands. He crouched down in front of Mitchell and grabbed his nub leg (“Now hold on a minute, just what do you think you’re--  ?!”), and jammed it into the contraption. It hurt Mitchell, definitely, but he wouldn’t let the young man take it off.

“First m’tail, and now this! What did I do to deserve this?!” Mitchell snapped under his breath. He wiped a tear from pain from his eye and crossed his arms. “What is that!” he demanded.

Mikkel stood back up. “It’s your new leg. Stand up,”

Mitchell was dumbfounded. “My what?”

“Your new leg! Stand up!”

With Mikkel’s help, Mitchell did just that. He had a lot of trouble with it at first, but soon was able to slowly amble around the workplace with ease.

“This is great!” Mitchell laughed. He would finally be able to move around without that damned crutch! “Why’d you do this for me?” he asked.

Mikkel shrugged. “So you’d stop being such a poor servant. To ease you. Anders likes you, and he mentioned something in passing, so I decided… I would do it,”

Mitchell smiled, “Thank you, so much! I will practice more now, I will go to Anders and show him your gift! What a work of art it is, thank you!”


	3. Chapter 3

It was the incessant and grating squeaking that woke Anders up for the second time that morning. He finally rolled onto his back and pushed himself up on his elbows, shamelessly airing his privates. He stared as Mitchell gleefully sauntered around the room, the new bit of metal attached to his leg.

“Look at this!” he said, “Look at what your brother made for me,”

It was the cause of the horribly obnoxious squeaking, Anders realized, and he was not amused.

“What is it? Make it stop that noise!” he demanded.

“It’s a new leg! Isn’t it amazing! I don’t know how we’ll get it to stop the noise but I don’t care! No more crutch, no more hopping!”

“That’s great ‘n all, Draco, but I do care! It’s fucking awful! This is the real reason my brother made it for you; to drive me nuts. Go take it back!”

Mitchell huffed. “I am not giving it back! Not everything is about you, you bastard! I will go and ask him about the noise, though,” he settled. He glanced at Anders and cringed, seeing the other man’s dick at half-mast. “And put some clothes on! No one wants to see that thing,”

Anders laughed. “That is  _ not _ what you were saying last night! What I recall is you were almost sobbing for me to give it to you; to put it as deep into your virginal hole as I could,”

“Stop that! It wasn’t like that, I wasn’t a virgin!” Mitchell snapped hysterically, face bright red.

“Yeah well you certainly aren’t  _ now _ ,” Anders cackled, watching as Mitchell hurried out of the room, blushing furiously. “And don’t come back until you get that noise taken care of!!”

Much later that evening, the family and close clansmen were gathered in the feast hall, celebrating Ty’s birthday. The boy was gifted with several small knives and even his very own shield, and was told he’d be put into dragon training starting the very next week. Ty was ecstatic, and began running and jumping around with his shield and a knife, swinging it wildly.

Mitchell watched him uncomfortably.

“And you won’t be going alone, son,” Johan smiled.

“I won’t?” Ty asked, eyes wide in curiosity.

“No! You’ll have your brother there with you, and his little Irish whore! They both need their training, especially your useless older brother,”

“Ohhh, yippee!” Ty cheered, running over to Anders and hugging him tightly. “I can’t wait!”

Anders laughed in disbelief. “What? No! Ha, ha, that’s fucking rich. I’m not going,” he declared.

“Oh yes you are, you little shit. There’s no talking your way out of it this year! Your brother Mikkel and I are going seaward to pillage other islands, which means you’ll be in charge for a while.  _ Try _ not to fuck it up, son, if you can. If there’s an attack from those slimy pieces of shit,” Johan gestured vaguely at Mitchell, “I don’t want to come home to my village burned to the ground!”

No one paid attention to Mitchell, who was now working more fiercely and had a dangerous look in his eye.

“Alright, leave. I’ll just make this place better without you,” Anders scoffed. Johan rolled his eyes and smirked.

“Okay, sure. But you’re not getting out of this training, like it or not,”

Fury engulfed Anders’ chest, but he forced a smile and looked at his younger brother. “Sorry Ty, it’s just going to be you and Mitchell. I won’t be going,” ignoring Ty’s look of dismay, he turned and stormed away, making sure to grab Mitchell by the arm and drag him along with.

“Training? Training to kill dragons?? Anders, I’m not doing this!” Mitchell snarled, once in the safety of Anders’ room. “I  **won’t** do it!” he grabbed a wicker basket and threw it at the door.

“Uh, yeah, I know you can’t, won’t, whatever, but we’re both going to have to! I don’t want to either, because I know I won’t be good at it and it’s dirty work,” Anders rolled his eyes, “I’ll talk my way out of it.  _ You _ , though, you have to. You’ll go with Ty! I don’t see the problem?”

Mitchell let out a ferocious roar that rattled Anders’ bones. “Of course you don’t, you selfish prick. I’m not going to be trained to kill my own people! My fellow ‘ _ slimy pieces of shit’ _ !” he grabbed a decorative object from the desk nearby and threw it with all his might at the wall. It shattered, and one of the shards nicked Anders on the jaw. Hissing in pain, he licked his thumb and rubbed at the minuscule wound to wipe away the tiny trickle of blood.

Anders was truly terrified now at Mitchell’s fury, though he was able to mostly hide it. In order to diffuse the situation, he did what he could do best.

“I’m pretty sure they just have a whole bunch of wild dragons caged up…” he began nonchalantly, “but to be fair, I thought all dragons were wild, mindless beasts, until I met you-- well actually…” Anders paused and observed Mitchell for a second. He was breathing quite heavily, wisps of smoke coming out with every exhale. His eyes were so dilated they appeared to be completely black, and his teeth were sharper and longer than normal. “... Ah, yeah, dumb beasts, all of ‘em,”

“Excuse you,” Mitchell said, offended. It seemed to knock him off kilter slightly, and he looked less intimidating immediately. “Have you seen you humans?”

“Look, if it makes you feel better, maybe I won’t talk myself out of it this year and I’ll hold your hand all through it. But if I die, it’s definitely on you. They use live dragons, y’know!”

Mitchell rolled his eyes and began walking away. “You’re despicable,” he growled.

“Truly; definitely why you keep falling into my bed, right?”

* * *

 

 

“So! Now that you’re all here, I want you to grab a weapon and a shield! Both are very important to ensure your survival!” shouted the trainer, Toejam. All the participants, children, teens and servants alike, moved over to the racks to grab themselves the proper tools. Mitchell begrudgingly grabbed a shield and mace; Ty already had his own shield and sword, but followed after his big brother just to be near him. Anders grabbed himself a regular shield and a battleaxe, but one of the bigger teens yanked the shield out of his hands and gave him a child’s size instead, laughing at him.

“This seems to fit you better!”

“Yeah, ha ha, funny.” Anders sneered, grabbing his original shield back. “Fuck off before I sic my pet dragon on you,”

“Pet dragon? Ha! That’s so stupid!” the boy guffawed, going back into line with his cronies.

“What the hell are you doing!? Don’t tell people I’m a D-R-A-G--” Mitchell began hissing into Anders’ ear, until he was swatted away.

“Oh hush! No one will believe me, they’re all too dumb! Now come on,”

Everyone was put into pairs, there were so many of them. Anders went with Ty, and Mitchell felt jealousy burn in him when Anders’ decision was immediate, despite knowing his feelings of rejection were dumb for thinking Anders would choose him over his little brother. In immature retaliation, he and his partner, a deaf and dumb stable boy named Holddoor, went to the other end of the line of students. When the training began, Toejam did nothing more than unleash the dragons on the unsuspecting students and let them fend for themselves.

Ty did well for someone his age, after getting over his initial fear. All it took was for Mitchell, who had slowly gravitated back near him and Anders, to mumble in his ear how lame they all were and what the best ways to outsmart them was (“Look at that! It’s just a Terrible Terror, look how small and puny it is! Just punch it in the nose,”). After that, Toejam became background noise. 

Everything he was spouting about each dragon became muted as Mitchell stepped in and mumbled his own personal expertise on them to the pair.

Even Anders was taking the tips to heart and was doing his best. There was something about seeing Mitchell watching him diligently that spurred him on. The knowledge that what Mitchell was telling him about all these dragons was all information to safely incapacitate them instead of hurting or killing them made him excited, like he always did when learning something new .  He was so used to the cultural ideology that all dragons were to be killed. All this education gave Anders an adrenaline rush, and he began to look forward to each successive dragon so that he could learn more about them.

It helped that every time he did something right, Mitchell praised him. Anders wasn’t used to the sincerity that Mitchell provided in his approvals, and it made him feel weird. A good weird! Anders nearly had to hold back an excited laugh when he spared a look over to the rest of the students.  They were doing very poorly compared to him, Ty and Mitchell. It was quite a comical sight to see them running around, flailing their weapons about in the air and hollering like madmen.

“Alright!” Toejam yelled, ushering the last of the dragon back into their pens. “That’s enough for today! This was just an aptitude test, and you’re all  _ horrible! _ We’ll pick this back up in a few days. Meanwhile, every single one of you must read this book! It’s the ins and outs of every single dragon we know about! Study it, and you won’t die!” he instructed them, holding up a thick tome.

Most of the students there showed disdain to the book, some even laughing or completely ignoring Toejam.

“Read the book!” Toejam yelled again, as the filed out of the arena, “Or you’ll regret it!”

 

* * *

 

 

Hours later, Anders was sitting with Mitchell in the dining hall. As they tore into their legs of turkey voraciously, they flipped through Toejam’s big book of dragons. Mitchell hummed every now and then as he looked over the pictures and read the descriptions, completely entranced.

He looked up at Anders finally after several long minutes. “These are pretty good and accurate,” he said, smiling, “I’m pleasantly surprised,”

“Oh yeah? You thought we would be too stupid to actually learn how better to kill you?” Anders sniggered. Mitchell shot him a scathing look and grabbed his long cold turkey leg. He grimaced at the cold meat, then looked around the large hall to make sure no one else was around. He took in a deep breath, then gently blew a thin stream of fire at the turkey leg, rotating it at the same time until it was satisfactorily heated back up.

“Cute party trick,” Anders smirked. He leaned over against Mitchell and flipped through a few pages of the book. He landed on one of the last pages, and it was different from all the rest. The regular detailed art of all the other dragons had been replaced with vague outlines. There were several other, much smaller drawings of what the unknown dragon  _ could _ be, but it was otherwise clear that this dragon was a mystery.

_ Nightfury _ it was named. The only known characteristics were it’s black as night scales, its bright green eyes and the powerful fireball it would shoot out like a cannon after a brief charging period. It was lightning fast and was seldom seen. **Danger/Threat level:** _ High. Do not instigate conflict without proper reinforcements. Kill on sight if readily prepared. _

Anders watched Mitchell pore over the page, his brow creased in confusion. His eyes widened and he jerked back as the realization dawned on him.

“That’s  _ me, _ ” he gasped.

“Is it?” Anders asked, looking back at the page. “Huh, you’re right,”

“Yeah! Me, or- or my family… my mother or father, or any of my brothers… or--! I’m not the first one to come here!” Mitchell exclaimed. He turned and scanned the page again, face falling. “My family, they...” He slammed the book shut then stood suddenly from the bench, quickly working to leave the hall.

“Hey! Where do you think you’re going!” Anders snapped.

“Home.” 

“ _ What? _ ” Anders ran to catch up with him. “What the hell are you talking about!”

“I’m going home. I’m going home to my family, where I belong. I’m not going to stay here as a captive and be taught how to  _ murder _ my kind and-- and be valued for only my body; treated like a whore!” he spat. “This has gone on far too long!”

Mitchell picked up his pace and ran out, slamming the doors shut behind him. Luckily it was late, and not many clansmen were around to get in Mitchell’s way as he blindly stormed past. He ended up in Anders’ room, almost predictably. It irritated him that he subconsciously fled for safety to where he and Anders spent the most time together, enjoying each others company. But where else could he go to think?

He sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair, clenching it in a tight fist when he heard the door shut behind him. He stilled and waited with his back still to the door for Anders to say something first.

“I thought you were leaving?” Anders asked lightly. Mitchell glared at the floor.

“I am.” he huffed, dropping his hand from his hair.

“Doesn’t look like it to me. Last I checked you don’t have anything to pack, so what gives?” Anders was trying to bait him, to provoke him into exploding.

“I don’t know! It was a mistake. Move out of my way so I can go, I’m sick of looking at your smug face,” he walked over to Anders, who was standing in his way directly before the door.

“No,” Anders shook his head once and crossed his arms.

“Anders, move!” Mitchell snapped, pushing Anders to the side. What did Anders think he was doing?

Anders grabbed Mitchell’s arm and tugged him back. “Hey!” he snapped. “Listen to me, idiot! I don’t care if you leave. I couldn’t care less! But if you do… I’m going with you. You have no say in this, alright? Take me with you.”   


Mitchell reeled back. “What? No! Get out of here, I’m not taking you with me,” he scoffed. "why would I want that? You're awful company," he shoved past Anders again, and this time Anders did not stop him as he left. “I can’t wait to never hear your irritating voice and see your ugly personality ever again,”

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Mitchell cursed himself for the umpteenth time. What had he been thinking? Right. He was going to make his grand escape from his captives by walking out into the wilderness to change into his dragon form and then fly away home. The first part of his not-very-well thought out plan was executed well enough. He hadn’t really intended on insulting Anders like he did, but it was spontaneous and in the moment, and too late to take back. The second part of his plan, though…

He was now lost in the forest, in the middle of the night. He ran as deep as he could into the thick woods so that he could safely transform, but there wasn’t enough space for him to do it! So he tried to find another spot where he could. He had no such luck. So then, he decided, he would just march back out of the forest and into the clearing! It was still quite dark out, no one would notice him, surely.

That had been hours ago, and now the sun was rising. He was just as far into the woods as he had been… however long ago. Mitchell had almost begun crying in his frustration. He was tired, hungry, his leg was hurting and he was lost in the forest! Angry, he roared out a long, powerful stream of fire up into the air. A few of the surrounding treetops caught fire, but Mitchell didn’t care. He turned and sprinted away in a random direction, stopping not too long after from the pain in his leg. He dropped down onto the large roots of one of the behemoth forest trees and pulled off the fake leg Mikkel had made for him, tossing it away so he could massage the appendage. It throbbed painfully, making Mitchell grimace in pain indefinitely. After a time the pain dissipated, and able to lull himself into an uncomfortable nap.

He jerked awake suddenly a few hours later, when the sun was now high in the sky. It was his instincts that had woken him; someone or something was near.

“Lost?”

Mitchell flailed and fell off the tree root, falling on his back. He sat up and glared over his shoulder at the speaker. It was Anders, who was leaning against a tree, smirking.

“How did you find me?” he growled.

“Well the singed trees were one good indication, and the random burst of fire. I’ve also been foraging through these woods my entire life. I know them well. Do you want help getting out or not?”

Mitchell glowered at him, but slowly stood up. He limped over to his fake leg and reattached it clumsily, then walked over to Anders.

“Well?” Anders asked. Mitchell looked away and crossed his arms.

“Yes,” he grumbled. “ _ Please, _ ” he added before Anders could ask him for that as well. 

“So polite! Well alright then, come on,” Anders snickered, turning and leading the way.

As soon as they had made it to the clearing, Mitchell pushed past Anders and rushed forward to the center. He threw off his fake leg and stripped off all his clothes, then flung himself onto all fours. Anders watched in horrified awe as Mitchell proceeded to transform into the dragon he had come face to face with all those months ago. It looked painful to Anders, but Mitchell seemed unaffected. As soon as the transformation was done, Mitchell roared joyously. He hopped forward a few paces, and even flipped onto his back, rolling around in the tall grass. He froze, and craned his neck to sniff at the grass.

Anders watched suspiciously as the dragon’s eyes dilated and he continued to spin and roll around wildly in the grass, making odd  _ purring _ noises deep in his throat.

“Mitchell!” he called out. “What the hell are you doing?”

Mitchell stopped and flipped back onto his four legs. He eyed Anders, then stretched his wings. He slowly fluttered his wings, trying them out after months of non-use.

“Mitchell…” Anders took a few steps forward when the dragon began hovering slightly in the air. He stared at Anders, but did nothing other than float higher very slowly. “Hey! Don’t you go anywhere! You owe me-- hey, stop it!”

Mitchell was flapping his wings much stronger now, and the brutal gusts of wind resulting from it made it hard for Anders to continue forward.

“You asshole, you owe me! I got you out of that forest! I  _ didn’t _ kill you!!” Anders shouted, using his arms to block the wind. “You beg for my cock every night and I graciously give it to you!  You promised you’d at least take me for a spin! At least give me that you rat with wings!”

Mitchell dropped to the ground, shaking the earth and nearly knocking Anders on his feet. He looked at Anders and gave him a short, sharp puff of air out of his nose. He lumbered over to the blond and sat back on his hind legs so that Anders could climb up. When Anders got close to his back though, he whipped his tail at him, startling Anders into falling over.

“Watch it!” Anders snapped. He got to his feet and brushed himself off, then stood behind Mitchell with his hands on his hips. He was trying to figure out the best way to climb up. Finally, he took a running start and then leaped up onto Mitchell’s back. He placed his feet onto Mitchell’s back legs and hooked his hands on the tops of his front to help drag himself up until finally he was sitting up above his wings, straddling his neck while still being able to wrap his arms still around it as well.

Mitchell made a small, questioning noise.

“Yeah, I think I’m good to go,”

Mitchell nodded, then began firmly flapping his wings, the motion of which made Anders feel very weird. And then they were in the sky. They weren’t very high at all, but Anders was already quaking in his boots as he looked down on the ground. Mitchell planted them back down on the ground gently, and Anders sat up.

“What, that’s it? That can’t be--”

Mitchell started sprinting forward, making Anders plunge forward and wrap himself back around Mitchell’s neck tightly and clench his eyes shut. Just as he peaked through them for an instant, Mitchell leaped into the air. He beat his wings forcefully to get them higher, and soon they were soaring through the sky.

Anders sat up again, very carefully, and looked around down at the earth that was much farther down now. His veins were coursing with adrenaline and he was grinning from ear to ear. He never thought he would experience something like  _ flying through the air on a dragon _ . Mitchell glanced up at him over his shoulder and tilted to the side, setting course for over the woods he had been lost in not even an hour ago.

They flew around over the trees for a few minutes before Mitchell decided to show Anders another one of his ‘party tricks’. Beating his wings harder than ever before, he began climbing higher and higher into the sky.

“What are you doing?!” he could hear Anders scream.

When he reached peak height, Mitchell wrapped up his wings. He pitched them forward, and in an instant they were diving headlong back to the ground.

“Mitchell?!”

They were getting closer and closer to the the treetops at an alarming speed. Anders was panicking now, he could hear it.  _ Good _ , he thought,  _ the prick deserves this! _

Seconds from impact with the trees, Mitchell shot his wings back out. All he had to do now was adjust his tail fins just so, and they’d be swooping back up! ...Except that wasn’t happening. Something was wrong. Fear jolted through Mitchell. What was happening? Why wasn’t his tail doing The Thing, he had willed it to do The Thing!

“Mitchell, what are you doing?!” Anders yelled. Mitchell shot a look past Anders and to his tail. Anders did the same when he noticed Mitchell, and lost all the color in his face. The majority of Mitchell’s tail was missing, just like his human leg. A large chunk was missing, and he only had one of his two tail fins. Somehow, both of them had completely forgotten. “Mi--”

They crashed through the trees at full force; it did nothing to slow their speed. The branches whipped at their skin and scratched them up fiercely, but they made it through and slammed into the ground so quickly that the wounds hadn’t even begun stinging yet.

Mitchell blacked out for a second when his head hit the ground, and his whole body surged with pain.

He called out for Anders, but it came out as a pitiful growl. When he didn’t get any sort of response from Anders, he mustered up the effort to roar out a bit louder. Still nothing. He craned his neck back and looked around for his companion. Worryingly, he was nowhere in sight. Mitchell closed his eyes and groaned in pain. Then, he shifted back into his human form. He climbed to his foot, slowly but surely with the help from a nearby tree.

“Anders!” he called out. “ _ Anders!! _ ”

A quiet groan from elsewhere, but nearby, in the forest.

“Anders!” Mitchell hopped as fast as he could over to the groans until he finally spotted Anders lying curled up on the ground. When Mitchell reached him, he jerked back in shock when he saw Anders’ arm. A part of the bone was sticking out of the skin. “Oh, no. Ohhhh nonnonononono,” Mitchell gasped. He dropped to his knees despite the pain and gingerly pulled Anders onto his back. Anders gasped in pain, and Mitchell apologized profusely. He asked the other several questions, mostly along the lines of ‘are you okay’, but it became readily apparent that Anders was barely conscious and completely incoherent.

Mitchell realized that he’d have to carry Anders back to the village. He had one leg, several scrapes and bruises, and they were lost in the middle of the forest. It was going to be a long day.


End file.
